Marika stared at the far-toucher, who seemed panicky and confused. Then she felt the touch, too. It was a strong one, driven by the agony of a wound. She felt the direction. "Up!" she snarled. "Everybody up. Weapons only. Leave your packs." She snatched her bow and javelin. Grauel and Barlog did likewise, questioning nothing, though they had many questions. Marika trotted toward the source of pain.
Two thirds of the huntresses did not so much as glance at Arhdwehr for approval. The others scarcely delayed long enough to see the older silth begin to fall into a rage.
It had been coming from the beginning. Marika had not seen it, but Grauel and Barlog had and had spoken with most of the huntresses. Marika realized there was, and would be, a problem only after she had done the thing.
Grauel admonished her softly as they ran through the forest. "You must learn to reflect on the consequences of your actions, pup," the huntress said. "You could have done that politely and let Arhdwehr claim it as her own idea."
Marika did not argue. Grauel was right. She had not thought. And because she had not taken a few seconds there might be trouble. Certainly, what sympathy she had won from Arhdwehr was now dead.
Silth were extremely jealous of their prerogatives.
The party under attack was just five miles away. An easy run for huntresses. Half an hour. But half an hour was too long.
Forty-seven multilated bodies in Akard dress lay scattered through the woods. Twice that many nomads lay with them, many twisted in that way they did after silth magic touched their hearts. Marika stared at the massacred, filled with a hard anger.
"They know we are close," Grauel said. "They fled without their dead." She knelt. "Mercy-slew their most badly wounded."
"Which way did they go?"
Grauel pointed. Marika looked to Arhdwehr, deferring this time. The older silth's lips pulled back in a snarl of promise. "How long ago did they run?"
Grauel replied, "Ten minutes at most."
The far-toucher said, "We left our things. We could lose them."
Marika gave her a fierce look. And, to her surprise, Arhdwehr did the same. The older silth said, "Marika, you and your friends take the point." To Grauel, she added, "Point out individual trails if they start scattering."
Everyone fell silent, froze. A far tak-tak-takking echoed up the valley along which the nomads had fled. Then came several sounds like far, muted thunder.
"What in the All?" Arhdwehr exploded angrily. "Go! But slow down after the first mile."
Marika leapt down the trail a step behind Grauel. Barlog panted at her heels. The others came behind, making no effort to keep quiet. The rustle of brush would be heard by no one above that ferocious uproar ahead.
The sound swelled quickly. After a mile Grauel slowed as instructed. Marika guessed the noise's source to be a half mile farther along. Grauel trotted another five hundred yards, then suddenly stabbed sideways with her spear and cut into the brush, headed uphill. Marika followed. Three minutes later Grauel halted. The hunting party piled up behind Marika.
The hillside gave a good view of a fire burn where tree trunks lay strewn like a pup's pick-up sticks. It was an old burn, with most of the black weathered away. Several hundred nomads crouched or lay behind the fallen trees. The tak-tak-takking noise came from a slope beyond the nomads.
Something went whump! over there. Moments later earth geysered near a clutch of nomads. Thunder echoed off the hills. Meth screamed. Several nomads tried to flee. The tak-tak redoubled. All who were erect jerked around and fell, lay still.
They were dead. Marika sensed that instantly. "What is going on over there?" she asked Arhdwehr.
It was something secret. The older silth ignored her question. "You stay put," Arhdwehr told her. "Use your talent. The rest of you follow me." She let out an ululation that would have done any huntress proud.
The huntresses hesitated only a moment, saw Marika do as she was told, followed. A howl of despair went up from the nomads.
The chatter from the far woods lasted only moments longer.
Marika wasted only a moment more speculating. The odds were heavy against her party. The nomads would obliterate them unless she did what she was supposed to do.
It was not a long fight, and scarcely a pawful of nomads escaped. When Marika walked through the burn afterward, she stepped over scores of bodies contorted but unmarked by wounds. A bloody Arhdwehr watched her with an odd look. "You did exceptionally well today, pup." A trace of fear edged her voice.
"The rage came," Marika said. She kicked a weapon away from fingers still twitching. "Would it not have been wiser to have stayed on the hillside and used our bows?"
"The rage came upon me also. I wanted to feel hot blood upon my paws."
Marika stared up that slope whence the strange sounds had come. "What was that, Arhdwehr?"
The elder silth shrugged.
"Males," Marika said. "I sensed that much. And you must know. Why is it hidden?"
Arhdwehr's gaze followed hers. "There are rules, pup. There are laws." To the huntresses, most of whom had survived, she said, "Forget the ears. This day's work is not done." She started toward the source of the mysterious sounds, traveling in a squat, darting from one log to another.
The huntresses all looked to Marika. Even the far-toucher hesitated. Marika could not help being both flattered and dismayed. She waved them forward.
"You made the move," Grauel whispered.
"What move?" Instead of hurrying after Arhdwehr, she took time to examine her surroundings.
"As strength goes."
Marika slipped a finger into a hole something had drilled through four inches of hard word. She stared at the torn bodies lying near the site of the explosion she had witnessed. "No, Grauel. It was not that. I just did what needed doing without thinking about the politics." That was a word that existed only in the silth secret languages. "What could have done this?"
"Maybe you will find out if you are there when she catches whoever it is she is chasing."
Marika scowled.
Grauel was amused, but only briefly. She surveyed the carnage. "Who would have thought this could occur in this world? And for what, Marika?"
Barlog was studying the corpses nearby, trying to read pack fetishes and having no luck. Few of the dead even wore them. She rolled a corpse, knelt, pulled something from its chest. She presented it to Marika a moment later.
It was a blood-encrusted, curved fragment of metal. Marika examined it briefly, tossed it aside. "I don't know. We'd better catch up."
The run was long and hard. Marika sensed the males in front in a tight group of twenty, loping along at a steady, ground-devouring pace. They seemed to know exactly where they were going and what they were doing. And that a band of huntresses was on their trail. They increased their pace whenever Arhdwehr increased hers.
"Who would have thought it?" Grauel gasped. "That males could run us into the ground."
"We ran six miles before they started," Barlog countered.
"Save your breath," Marika snapped.
They moved up through the party till Marika was running at Arhdwehr's heels. She was young and strong, but the pace told. Why were they doing this?
Someone farther back said, "We will catch them after dark."
Arhdwehr tossed back one black look and increased her pace. Marika had to admire the silth. She was showing exceptional endurance for one who led a sedentary life. Marika started a warning. "Mistress ... "